


To My Father

by FrostfireEzreal



Series: Headache - Sylvix [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Minor Spoilers, felix is an edgy boy, i sorta proof read, sylvain is his impulse control, sylvix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostfireEzreal/pseuds/FrostfireEzreal
Summary: It had happened so suddenly. Rodrigue had only stepped out to speak with Dimitri, and the next thing Felix knew he was dead. His father was gone, and just like Glenn, died for the boar prince. His heart burned with rage and his chest ached in sorrow. Yet there was a light at the end of all this darkness, and no matter how black the ichor, Sylvain managed to shine through and save him from falling too deep into despair.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Headache - Sylvix [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793221
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129





	To My Father

**Author's Note:**

> The precursor to this fic is one I wrote called: Can I Marry Your Son? You don't need to read it to understand this one though.

There was no time for a proper burial. In times of war, there was no time for anything. They were always on the move, only stopping when the sun had set or to prepare for a battle. They had been fighting this war for years now, so everyone was used to the fast pace and the wear and tear on their joints. Each passing day was just another day, believing that their Prince was still out there and to hold out until they reunited.

Sylvain and himself faced the brunt of the Empire’s attacks. Their territories were one of the only ones strong enough to repel the Empire’s forces and they fought tooth and nail to protect their sovereign land. If the Empire wanted the remnants of their Kingdom, they’d have to tear it from their cold dead hands.

It was a few days before the Millennium festival was supposed to be held when Sylvain made the short trek from Gautier to Fraldarius territory. He informed Felix of a lead he found on their beloved Prince. A few farmers from a village by Garreg Mach spotted a blonde, deranged knight heading towards the Monastery and reported it to Kingdom rebels as they passed through. The red head then urged the young noble to accompany him to the run-down Monastery. ‘Wouldn’t hurt to check it out. Think of it as a date.’ He had said, earning only a frown from Felix.

But he was glad Sylvain had managed to drag him to the monastery, because it was there that they reunited with their former classmates, their Boar Prince and their beloved Professor. Since then they won every battle thrown their way, captured key locations within Fodlan and put the fear of Seiros in the Empire’s eyes. It only took a few months to accomplish everything his father and Margrave Gautier had accomplished in five years; needless to say, it was a stressful yet positive change of pace.

It was nearing the end of their campaign when it happened. His father, Rodrigue, slain by a young girl who wanted to exact her revenge on Dimitri killing her brother in combat. Felix wanted to scream; he wanted to pummel the Prince into the ground. It was him- he was the reason his father was dead. He deserved anything Felix threw his way- yet he didn’t move. He stood there back at the camp, staring at the damp ground upon hearing the news of his father’s passing. No tears. No sign of remorse.

But on the inside his mind and soul was a whirlwind of emotions. He was devasted- for that was his father who had died; He was furious- for his father died protecting an idiot and probably thought his own death justified because he died for that prince. Sylvain stood at his side, enveloping him into a tight hug as Felix’s eyes stayed glued to the dirt. He could tell the young Gautier was holding back tears, but Felix was holding back so much more.

There was no time for a proper burial. They only saw his fathers’ body once before it was prepped and lowered into the earth. They placed a large marker, one that would be updated after they won the war. Annette and Mercedes were a sobbing mess, Ashe close behind them in tear count. The atmosphere was somber and the only words that were spoken were condolences and hopes for a brighter future. As he looked about the crowd before his father’s grave, something snapped inside him as he gazed upon Dimitri’s face. The Prince wept, Byleth holding his arm as if to comfort him.

Felix grit his teeth. That was _his_ father; the man who had raised _him_ and showered him with love no matter how horrible of a son he was. The one who held him when he cried, the one who bandaged his wounds, the one he had pushed away. After rejecting Rodrigue for so long because of his foolish views of chivalry- he was gone. Just like Glenn he was gone. And this prince believed he had the right to cry and grovel over him? Felix didn’t even get to see him before he died- didn’t get to hear his last words. The Professor had told him what his father said before he died… But they were all about Dimitri.

He took a step forward, eyes trained on the blonde. Dedue seemed to notice and shuffled closer to Dimitri, but Felix didn’t care. He’d fight off both the vassal and the boar if he had to. As he approached the prince, he raised his fist.

“Felix?”

He lunged at the prince.

“Felix!”

He crashed into the boar prince, knocking him to the ground. He got one good hit in, clocked him right across the face, before a pair of arms wrapped him up from behind and dragged him off. Byleth stood between them as Dedue went to help Dimitri back up.

“Hey- Felix, quit it!” Sylvain pleaded as he tried to hold the other back. “Fe-”

“He’s dead!” Felix shouted, thrashing around in the red heads arms. “You just stood there and watched him die! You just stood there and watched _Glenn_ die!” He growled, eyes glaring at Dimitri. “ _You_ killed them _you_ -!”

Felix continued to struggle against Sylvains grip, unintentionally elbowing the other in the face at some point. “He was so wrapped up in protecting you; being a _fucking_ knight- he didn’t even mention me as he died!? Everything’s always about you and the Kingdom- about _Prince Dimitri_ the soon to be savior of Fargheus!” His voice was full of spite, he practically spit when he said the Boars name.

Ingrid then spoke up, “Felix that’s enough! Do you really think Dimitri _wanted_ this to happen? You’re not the only one allowed to grieve, you know. We’re _all_ grieving.”

Felix bit his lip, for the first time in years tears were threatening to fall. His fists were still clenched, and he began to shake. “My family is _gone_.” He grit his teeth, it was so hard to convey his feelings. He always bottled them up- for if someone showed emotion, they were weak. To be strong he needed to be stoic- needed not to care.

But that was his father and he _did_ care.

Sylvain turned the grieving man around by his shoulders and enveloped him into a tight hug. Felix tried to break free, not wanting to tear his hateful gaze from the prince, but Sylvain forced his head to his chest. “Felix that’s enough,” He said in a hushed tone, “I’m here for you. It’s okay.”

His mind was numb and tired; his body weak from the pent-up anguish that plagued his heart. He wanted to punch something, slice something with his sword- he wanted to take his anger out on anything. But this fury took a toll on him and he found himself unable to lift a finger. He lightly pushed against Sylvain who let go; a worried look on his face that broke Felix’s heart even more. He stepped back, looking once more to the grave before rushing off. He pushed past the crowd and dragged himself back towards camp.

The ideology of chivalry and knighthood claimed the lives of foolish knights everywhere. The ideal knight was strong, courageous, kind- all things Glenn and his father were- but they were also expected to die for their kings. Even if they could have made it out unscathed, that duty bound them to the grave. They’d be willing to leave their families behind, let the ones they loved suffer for the rest of their existence simply because one man needed protection. Because both Glenn and Rodrigue died for Dimitri, he was stripped of the love and kindness he had in his life. His warmth was gone, as was his heart. 

Felix avoided the eyes of the knights who looked at him as he walked into their encampment and made a b-line to his tent. He threw open the flap and stomped in, throwing his swords onto the ground.

_He died like a true knight._

Felix sat on the edge of his cot, staring down to the floor.

_He died like a true knight._

His lip quivered slightly as he covered his eyes with his hands.

_He died like a true knight._

The words continued to ring through his being. The words his father uttered the day they found out Glenn was killed. The day he disowned his own father and distanced himself from him for years.

_He died like a true knight._

Yes, maybe they did. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He didn’t even get to tell his father that he loved him, and now he died thinking Felix hated him.

_He died like a true knight._

He sobbed. 

* * *

The next day, the Kingdom army was supposed to pack up and head back to the monastery. Felix got up earlier than usual, unable to sleep as his mind was occupied with the events that happened the day before. He felt sluggish, but he pushed through that feeling and packed his one small bag of necessities before deconstructing his tent. By the time everyone else was waking up, he was securing his folded-up tent to his horse.

He worked in silence, checking and then double checking to see he had packed everything and that it was all where it was supposed to be. As he was tying his bag back up, he heard a pair of footsteps approach him from behind. They were light, so not Dedue or even Dimitri (which he thanked the goddess for). He looked over his shoulder to see Ashe standing there, an anxious look on his face. Felix didn’t say anything and went back to closing his bag.

“…Felix, I’m-”

“Stop.” The swordsman interrupted, standing back up, “If you’re going to apologize, I don’t want to hear it. In fact, if you’re going to mention my father then don’t waste your breath. I’m not going to talk about it.”

He heard Ashe shift around before feeling a hand on his shoulder. If he wasn’t so tired, he would have smacked the other off. But he didn’t. Felix looked to the archer which turned out to be a big mistake. The other wore the saddest expression, one that caused him to freeze. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

“I know what it’s like to lose a father.” Ashe began, “It’s a terrible feeling- an incredible pain like no other. One that takes years to heal, but it never truly does.” The silver haired man squeezed Felix’s shoulder. “It’s something you need to talk about with someone- you can’t just keep it all bottled up. I know- I had to go through it _twice_.” 

Felix tensed. That’s right, Ashe’s parents died when he was young, and then had to watch his adoptive father die during their time at the officer’s academy. He remembered how the other, although clearly grieving and bleary eyed, put on a smile and still went to class despite the pain. Knowing how he felt now, Felix couldn’t understand how he had the strength to get up after that. The archer was truly strong. He admired that, though he’d never say it aloud.

Felix let out a shaky sigh. “I…” He averted his gaze, but they traveled back to Ashe when the other unexpectedly stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug.

“You don’t need to talk about it right away, just whenever you’re ready.” He said, patting the swordsman’s back.

“…How did you do it?”

Ashe blinked in confusion, but the look of realization hit him when he finally understood the question. “I had a brother and sister to take care of. As horrible as it sounds, I had to push past it and move on. No matter how badly I wanted to lock myself away and cry for an eternity, I had to realize quickly that sulking doesn’t put food on the table.”

Felix averted his gaze and after a lengthy silence responded, “I see.”

“There’s also one more thing,” Ashe began, pulling back from the embrace. “About Dimitri-”

Felix immediately stepped back, a dark scowl on his face. “ _Him_ _again_? Don’t even mention that boar near me.”

“Felix, please.” Ashe pleaded softly, “I understand you’re mad at him but there was no way he wanted this to happen. Did he not love Rodrigue like a father as well? This is weighing heavily on his heart too; you mustn’t blame him for this.”

“No, stop.” He growled defensively. “He doesn’t have the right to grieve like that- not when _he_ is the reason my father died. He deserved _everything_ I threw at him- he deserved everything I _said_ to him.”

“The pain Dimitri feels is not just because of Rodrigue’s death, but because of the fact he let you down, Felix. He never wanted this, and if he could have done something you know he would have-”

“Okay that’s enough.” A third voice chimed in, catching both of their attentions. Sylvain came forward, one hand on his hip the other at his side and his signature smirk decorating that pretty face of his. “Ashe, why don’t you finish packing up, okay? We’re gonna leave soon.”

Ashe looked between Felix and the red head before letting out a sigh. “Right… I’ll… Okay.” He muttered, squeezing Felix’s shoulder once more before walking off.

The two friends watched him walk off before Sylvain crossed his arms and broke the silence. “Felix don’t be too hard on him. You know he’s just trying to help.”

Felix only scoffed before walking back to his horse. Sylvain followed close behind, slinging an arm around the others waist. “Ingrid wanted you riding up front with the others, but I was thinking you and I could hang in the back. That sound good?”

Felix frowned at the fact Sylvain was talking to him, yet he was grateful for what he said. While Sylvain was the type to express his love loudly, he always made sure to pick up on the small things. And it was always those small things that made Felix the happiest, or in this case, the most relieved. Although he despised the boar prince for what happened, he would admit that having to be near him after such an outburst would be quite the uncomfortable predicament.

“Hey,” The Gautier leaned in close, pressing his head to Felix’s, “You know I love you.”

“…I know.” Was all the young Fraldarius could say before feeling that same pain in his chest from the day before. He clicked his tongue- he hated this feeling. It hindered him in the most inconvenient ways; couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t will himself out of bed. It was the same throbbing ache that plagued his heart when Glenn died. He only grew more frustrated as the thought lingered.

“Hey now,” The red head cooed, cupping the others face with his free hand. “Felix, I’m here for you. Always have been and always will be. I want you to talk to me, okay? I don’t want you bearing this burden alone.”

Felix rested his own atop Sylvain’s, gripping tightly. “I know and I will.” He sighed, “We’ll talk just… When we get back to the monastery.”

Sylvain offered him a warm smile. “Then we’ll talk about it then.” He planted a firm kiss onto the other forehead. “Well, since you’re all ready to go, wanna help me pack up my tent?”

Felix groaned.

* * *

Ingrid looked over her shoulder to the steady stream of knights that followed behind their Prince. Beside her said Prince and the Professor rode on their horses, Dedue walking not far behind with Gilbert. Mercedes and Annette mingled among the troops, tending to small wounds that they hadn’t had time for earlier, and Ashe rode on ahead no doubt patrolling the area. She herself would have been helping patrol the skies if it had not been for the bustling winds that threatened to blow her off her Pegasus, and so she trotted upon the earth.

She caught a glimpse of Sylvain and Felix riding at the very end of their army, hard to miss because of Sylvain’s bright hair color. A part of her wanted to scold Felix for how he had acted yesterday, yelling and screaming at the Prince and even punching him- and at his own father’s funeral no less! It was the most un-knightly thing to do, then again, Felix was never a knightly person to begin with.

But she knew better than to scold him in such a sensitive time. She understood that he was only this way because his father passed; and all too soon. She couldn’t pretend to know his pain, he had lost the two dearest people in his life, but she knew what it felt like to lose Glenn. That hurt worse than any wound.

While she worried about Felix, she too worried about Dimitri. He was taking it hard as well, believing that he should have done something even if there was no way he could have known what that girl was plotting. Gilbert did his best to console the young Prince, but it seemed it didn’t do much to ease his conscious. She was thankful for the Professor, who stayed by his side. He had always been able to calm Dimitri just by being there.

She glanced to the blonde in question and took in his somber expression. Ingrid wanted to say something, anything to get her Prince’s mind off the recent events, but she just couldn’t find the words. What could she even say in this situation? And so she opted to stay quiet, yet her gaze continued to look his way throughout their entire trip back to the monastery.

* * *

Felix traveled straight to his room once they reached their destination, too tired to help with anything else. Well, he would have stayed and helped unload some things if Mercedes hadn’t intervened and ordered him to get some rest. He supposed he should thank her for that.

He unbuckled his millions of belts, throwing them onto his desk before tacking his tunic. He threw that somewhere else in the room before moving to his boots. But as he reached down, a knock at the door caught his attention.

“Fe? Can I come in?”

 _Sylvain_.

The raven-haired soldier sighed, crossing the room to open the door. Sylvain stood there with a smile, already out of his armor and into more casual wear. Felix turned on his heel and walked back to his bed, plopping down to tackle his boots. Sylvain walked in after that, closing the door behind him, and soon enough joined Felix on the bed.

“Need help with that?” The red head asked with a grin.

Normally, Felix would have told him to fuck off, but instead he kicked one leg up onto the others lap.

Sylvain gladly obliged and began stripping the other of his way-too-high boots. They sat like that in a comfortable silence, Sylvain pulling the other into a loving embrace after his job was done. He held one of Felix’s hands in his own, thumb rubbing over his knuckles before bringing his hand up, placing a firm kiss on it.

He then kissed Felix’s ring finger with a sad smile. “I never got to show him the ring I got for you.”

Felix looked at him in surprise. “You got me a ring?”

“Well, yeah.” Sylvain chuckled. “He said I could marry you, so I ordered a custom ring almost immediately from a jeweler in town. The guy said it’d be ready when we got back to the monastery, so I was planning on showing him then. See if he thought it was good for you or not.”

The swordsman sighed, resting his head against the others shoulder. Sylvain used the opportunity to dig into his back pocket, procuring a small black box. He placed it into Felix’s hands, nudging him to open it.

Felix slowly opened the box, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight. A simple silver band encrusted with a bright amber-like gem; smaller diamonds set around it. It wasn’t too flashy, but not too dull either. He knew Sylvain had been considerate when designing it. He looked up to meet the red head’s eyes, heart aching.

“Do you like it?” Sylvain asked, plucking the ring carefully from the velvet interior of the box.

“Idiot, I wouldn’t have cared either way.” He paused, “…You know I’d like anything you got me.”

Sylvain took Felix’s right hand and slipped the ring right on, leaning in to assault the other was a flurry of kisses.

“Felix, I love you.” He said, “Remember when I asked him to have your hand in marriage? Remember the look on his face? I hadn’t seen him smile like that in years. Rodrigue loved you too, more than anything, which was why he was so overjoyed to see you happy again.” He leaned back slightly and cupped the others cheeks. “It’s okay to mourn, Felix. It doesn’t make you weak. But instead of mourning alone, please, let me be there with you the whole way.”

Felix felt the tears threaten to fall. The burning sensation within his chest returned in both joy and sadness. Even after everything he did, how nasty he was to everyone, Sylvain still treated him like he was perfect. Still loved him.

Felix had thought that his heart was gone; ripped from his chest and stomped into the ground. And while it was, somehow Sylvain had managed to dust it off and nurse it back to good health. Even if it were to shatter into a million pieces, the red heart would surely pick up every piece and glue it back together. The young Fraldarius let the tears fall and he buried his face in the crook of his lovers neck.

Sylvain held him tightly, hushing him and whispering soft words.

If Rodrigue could see him now, there would be no doubt he’d be overjoyed. His son, once brooding and angry at everyone and everything, in the arms of the man he loved. The engagement ring glistened in the retreating sunlight, symbolizing a new life in store for them. And while Felix’s world would be consumed in grief, it would only last a short while. Soon those dismal feelings would be replaced with love and hope; and that frigid heart of his would know warmth once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This one took awhile to write, but I had a great time doing it! Leave a kudo and a comment, they're greatly appreciated <3


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